In Eggnog There Is Truth
by SparklingLetters
Summary: Regina and Tinkerbell share a chat and a few drinks. A slightly intoxicated Tink dares an equally tipsy Regina to kiss the first person to walk into Granny's.


"Cheers," Tinkerbell chirped in time with the clink of the glasses.

Regina sniffed the creamy deliciousness; her drinking companion looked a little blurry around the edges already.

"Can't handle your eggnog?" Tinkerbell teased with her glass almost empty.

Regina rolled her eyes. _Oh, whatever_. The frothy sweetness pouring down her throat almost neutralised the burning tang of brandy. Apparently, Granny liked to give her beverages a little extra kick, much like she herself did with lasagna.

"Truth or dare?"

"What?" Regina retorted. Wherever did that idea come from?

"Oh, come on, Regina. Relax. It's just the two of us - and the alcohol. And I've already spent an indecently long time whining about Hook's cranky advances. It's your turn now."

"Well then, truth. But keep it within reason." She only hoped she still had enough of that left. In any case, her usual walls were still intact enough for her to feel a rising sense of discomfort at the threat of someone getting too close.

"Why don't you just pick dare, then? Come ooon," Tinkerbell drawled.

It was only the two of them at the diner; there wasn't much in way of an embarrassing dare you could make up with no people around. What did she possibly have to lose?

"Dare, then," Regina growled, almost resigned but alert enough to feel a small knot form in her stomach. If this was how Tinkerbell intended to spend the rest of the evening, she might as well want to order another round soon.

"Good," Tinkebell giggled, and Regina couldn't but wonder hazily whether this wasn't exactly where Tinkerbell had wanted to get her the whole time. "How about…" Tinkerbell's eyes twinkled mischievously, darting around the empty diner and resting on the door. Regina squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. What was her fairy friend up to? "How about…you kiss the first person to walk into this place?"

Now the cat was out of the sack, Tinkerbell watched Regina with an almost hungry expression that, frankly, got through to her more than the request at that moment, and brought forth a sense of wariness. There was something else, however, something about the eggnog and the brandy and especially the closest thing to a girls' night out Regina had ever experienced – whatever it was, it altered her reaction to the bold request in ways she would find hard to account for.

Still, her first instinct was to try and reason. "No one's going to walk in here at this time, this particular day." Boxing Day would still be dedicated to family for most residents of Storybrooke. Since it was Emma's turn to have Henry over, Regina had been free to spend the afternoon with Tinkerbell, working on their recently rekindled friendship. "Fat chance."

"You're afraid," Tinkerbell smirked provocatively, accidentally knocking over an empty glass with a wide gesture.

"Of a kiss?" Regina threw back her head and laughed. "Most certainly not," she responded, matching Tinkerbell's self-satisfied smirk.

"On the lips, Regina. For no less than," she began to count on her fingers, "one steamboat…two steamboats…five steamboats."

"I accept. The first man who walks in within the next, say, fifteen minutes?" She half-expected the fairy to negotiate a longer timeframe, but Tinkerbell merely raised an eyebrow, threw a fleeting glance to the door, smiled to herself, and nodded.

"You might want to get to the door. That way you won't be tempted to go back on your word once they enter."

"Do you want me to wait by the door for a whole of fifteen minutes when there might not even be any-"

"Just go!" Tinkerbell waved her away clumsily, knocking over another couple of empty glasses.

Resigned, Regina went. The door swam before her eyes for a moment as she got up but the world steadied around her again soon enough. The heels she was wearing felt higher and wobblier than usual, and she pulled up a chair to sit down by the door. The voice of reason had receded, and she felt no nerves at all. For one, the odds of anyone entering the diner were indeed close to zero. And if someone did come after all…? Well, she couldn't say she'd actually mind that much. It felt good to let her hair down a little after – well, her entire life. A chair leg scraped the floor as Tinkerbell leaned forward with her mouth slightly agape. The time was almost up; Regina half-turned to shoot her an I-told-you-so glance when the door creaked and a breath of fresh night air floated in.

On impulse, Regina jumped up and launched herself forward. There was no time to notice who the newcomer was; all she knew was that she was grabbing the lapels of his coat and pressing her lips to his.

One steamboat – his lips remained tightly sealed and his fingers curled around her arms in protest and a rather lame attempt to push her away. Two steamboats – his stubble prickled, not unpleasantly, and he smelled woodsy, like fresh pine; he must have leaned down to her because she didn't have to stand on tiptoe anymore. Three steamboats – he ran his hands down her arms and parted his lips, and started kissing her back. Four steamboats – he pulled her closer, and she leaned against him because her legs felt unsteady all of a sudden. Five steamboats – why was she locked in his embrace now; and why were her fingers in his hair; and above all, why wasn't she breaking the kiss yet?

It was the sound of footsteps behind the counter that seemed to bring them both back to reality, and they broke apart breathlessly. Regina found herself looking into the piercing blue eyes of Robin Hood, and groaned inwardly at the recognition. Did it really have to be him of all people?

"That was quite a welcome," he said hoarsely, with a twinkle in his eye and a curious expression.

"I- it was a – a dare," she muttered hastily.

"Ah, I see. Well, I should be so lucky," he winked at her. His hands were still resting on her arms.

Regina whipped around and bolted.

"Was that enough steamboats?" she asked carelessly – or so she hoped – upon returning to the table.

"Plenty. A whole armada," Tinkerbell admitted, flabbergasted.

"Fine. The next round's on you," Regina gestured towards the counter, at which Robin was waiting for his order. "No more eggnog," she called after her feebly.

A smug smile settled on Tinkerbell's face as she went to get the drinks: the colour rising in Regina's cheeks had nothing to do with eggnog, and everything to do with the intensity of Robin's stare when their eyes met briefly.


End file.
